


Feedback

by Clocketpatch



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: BAMF Rory Williams, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocketpatch/pseuds/Clocketpatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Explosion. The packed clod of ice smashed into the side of Amelia's head. It didnt break off into powder like a proper snowball. It thudded against the ground beside her, shattering just as another ice ball hit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feedback

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in the backlogs of my computer and don't believe it's been posted.
> 
> * * *

  
Explosion. The packed clod of ice smashed into the side of Amelia's head. It didn’t break off into powder like a proper snowball. It thudded against the ground beside her, shattering just as another ice ball hit. She ran, raising her arms to protect her head, cold water melting down to soak her jacket collar. There was a bit of a ditch behind the school and some brambles. If she could just reach it then… but suddenly she was tackled from the side and the pack was on her.

“Hey Pond, tell us about your friend.”

Whack.

“Have you travelled to any moons this week? Because you’re loony.”

Punch.

“He is real! He’s coming back!”

Slam.

“Oh yeah? Why would your imaginary friend come back for _you_? Even if he were real, nobody would ever come back for you.”

Her jacket was red. Her hair was red. She could see red, all bent up against the white slush and gravel. She wanted to see blue. She wanted to see stars. The sky was grey and overcast. She couldn’t see either.

There were choices: argue, curl up and take it — the bell couldn’t be far off, or go feral and fight back. But Aunt Sharon would be angry if she got suspended for biting again.

Someone whacked her in the stomach while she was deciding. Amelia retched. She could taste the sandwich she’d had for lunch again and not in a good way. The pack kept on pounding her. Her hat and mitts had gone missing. She gripped at the snow with bare fingers.

Puking would gross them out and make them run away. That worked. And then she’d probably get to see the nurse which would lead to fussing and lectures. It was fussing and lectures whatever she did. There wasn’t any choice.

Amelia turned her head and sunk her teeth into the nearest hand. It was warm and salty and the texture was like fruit leather. Someone screamed and when Amelia looked up she realised that the pack was gone and she’d just bit the teacher.

*

She’d wake up in the middle of the night and early in the morning. She’d be so hopeful. It was the right sound, that strange grinding, whining, wheezing sort of sound. He’d come back for her. She wasn’t really crazy.

Except it was always a snow plough or a garbage truck or the far off whistle of a distant train.

*

He wasn’t really a hero and she was just a funny little thing that was a bit entertaining. Ruin her whole life and what did it matter? She built him up and built him up and —

He was just as broken as her, groping in the dark, taking people and using them.

*  
Everything was dark. The forest was cool and damp and she could feel it humming. She couldn’t see and there were monsters. She can’t see and he’d left her. She was alone.

*

He was dead. Dead, and she never properly said, “I love you.”

*

Dead, for real now, no waking up. And now she was going to forget … Oh god, how could he let her think everything would be alright? Oh god. What was wrong with her, why couldn’t she just hold him, why was he slipping—

Why was why she crying?

*

Fire on the lake. She can smell the smoke from the shore. Dead. Gone. Alone. And she never properly said…

*

“Amy?”

There’s salt in her mouth and her eyes are burning, but someone’s got their hands on her shoulders and when she opens her eyes the Doctor is there. She’s on her knees and her head is pounding. The grass around them is so green it makes her want to look away. It’s a fantasy land colour. Nothing can be that green and be real. She can still taste faint hints of vomit and blood and snow.

“Amy, you’re okay now, you’re safe. We came across a thomra’at’at. Nasty thing. It immobilizes its prey with a psychic bolt and then… and then it does very unpleasant things with its teeth.”

“Rory?” Amy says, groping at the Doctor’s arms. She manages to fall over sideways onto the grass. It’s soft and a bit itchy. Her mouth feels disconnected from her mind. Her tongue is huge and thick and can’t get the sounds out right. “Rory!”

“Shhh, shh.” The Doctor arms wave around in what is probably meant to be a calming manner. “He’s here beside me, still out of it. Two thousand years in that head of his to sift through.”

Amy lurches forward to grab her husband’s hand. His eyes are closed and even though she’s awake now she can still see him dying and then blowing away into a pile of dust. There isn’t even a body left for her to mourn.

“He doesn’t seem as badly affected as you,” says the Doctor. “I’d expect more trauma, him being a nurse and all of that time in his head. That’s mostly why he’s still asleep — time. It’s a lot to get through, but things just seem to roll off him. He’s very good at —”

Rory starts screaming and jerking on the ground. His head thrashes back and forth flattening grass. He’s mumbling under his breath about fire. “I’ll save you. I’ll save you. I haven’t this long. I’ll save you.”

Amy holds his hand and looks up at the Doctor. She smells smoke. There’s a new tear winding its way down her cheek.

“Help him.”

The Doctor looks completely helpless. “Amy…”

Rory’s screams die down to whimpers.

“Please,” Amy begs.

“Amy, there’s nothing I can do. They’re his memories. I can’t just step in and taken them away.”

“Why not? It’s not like they’re good memories.”

The Doctor averts his eyes. “Amy, they’re his. They’re part of what makes him Rory, wonderful beautiful Rory. I can’t just… I can’t.”

“You could, you mean, but you won’t,” says Amy. Beneath her Rory gasps and his eyes creak open. Amy immediately starts hugging him.

“Rory!” the Doctor says a bit too loudly. “Back with us I see.”

“What was that?” Rory asks dazedly. The Doctor helps both of his companions to their feet, ignoring the scowl he’s getting from Amy.

“A psychic bolt, from a thomra’at’at,” the Doctor says very quickly. “It wanted to have you for lunch. Luckily its attack couldn’t get past my shielding. Good thing shielding. I’ll have to teach you two to put some up. Save you from nasty things with teeth and claws.” The Doctor shifts from foot to foot, looking around uneasily at the grass and the gentle hills. There are picnic things scattered around their feet. The checkered blanket is shredded.

Rory blinks, slowly. “Doctor, you’re bleeding.”

“Like I said; they do nasty things with their teeth… mind…” The Doctor smiles Amy. “You also did some nasty things with your teeth. Nice bite Pond.”

Amy feels like her mind is seeping back in a bit at a time. It had been all anxiety and waiting and not knowing. And he wouldn’t help, but now he’s bleeding. There are deep purple depressions on his hand which Amy is sickeningly certain match her own teeth. There’s a tear across his shirt front and his trouser legs are mangled. He’s raggedy all over and they’re walking back to the TARDIS as quick as they can manage because there might be more thump rats or whatever they’re called.

Rory is urging the Doctor to stop so he can examine him. The Doctor isn’t having any of it:

“It can wait until we’re back inside. TARDIS. I’ll get some bandages, that’s what you use, right? Bandages. No need to fuss about it. And you two. You should go to your bunks and rest or canoodle, do human-y stuff. You’ve had a psychic shock. You need to reassert emotional control so you don’t get caught in a feedback loop.”

“You’re getting a full examination,” Rory says. “Some of those cuts need stiches and animal salvia can be dangerously high in bacteria. It may have been venomous…”

“Rory, why would it be venomous? It’s already got a perfectly good way to immobilize prey and predators.”

“And what if it starts working on you?” asks Amy. “What if you start… remembering things? I mean, you’re pretty old, there’s probably a lot of things that…”

“Yeah, there are,” the Doctor says, not elaborating. He swallows and looks ahead. “Look, there’s the TARDIS.”

She seems bluer than ever against the painfully green grass.

They get inside and Amy feels the last of the fog evaporate. It’s cool inside the TARDIS. It’s real. Her husband is still badgering the Doctor.

“I’m not arguing about this,” the Doctor shouts. It’s so loud Amy has to take a step back. The silence that rushes in after is worse. The Doctor’s eyes are pleading as he continues. His voice is quieter, but somehow that’s worse: “You can’t be fussing and worrying over me after an attack like that. It will set a pattern and it’s the wrong pattern. You’ve got to go off and be happy together.”

For a moment they all just breathe.

“As if we can be happy knowing you’re bleeding all over in the next room,” Amy says, smiling nervously. “Come on Doctor, please, just let Rory patch you up a bit.”

Rory takes a few steps towards the Doctor. The Doctor shakes his head and leans forward against the console. The light of the time rotor reflects off his high forehead.

“You have to go,” he whispers, “both of you. Now.”

“Doctor, what’s wrong?” Amy asks.

“Now Ponds! Go away. Why won’t you go away?”

The Doctor is breathing fast and heavy. His pupils are contracted to tiny dots.

“It is affecting you, isn’t it?” Amy accuses. “The psychic attack? Your shields didn’t work?”

“Of course they worked. They worked long and well enough for me to get you to safety didn’t they? But the bolts have been growing against the casing and now it’s got the scope of things going in. And you two keep standing there with your eyes all big and its really very disconcerting. Why won’t you just go off snogging somewhere for a bit. Don’t you understand? I don’t want you to see this.”

“You’re an idiot,” says Amy simply.

She and Rory go forward. The Doctor stops talking. His eyes are downcast and he avoids looking at them as they help him to sit down on one of the couches. There’s not enough time to get him to a bedroom now. His hands are trembling and any moment Amy knows he’s going to slip away. His long fingers grip at the edge of the couch and at Amy’s sleeve.

“We’re here for you,” Rory says. He looks at Amy. “I’ll be right back; I’m going to fetch the first aid kit. Stay with him.”

“As if I’d leave.”

Rory looks conflicted for a moment. Then he leans forward and kisses his wife on the forehead before racing away on his mission. Amy slides herself onto the couch next to the Doctor, pulling him into a tight hug. He’s shaking.

“I don’t want to…” he says softly.

Amy thinks her heart is going to break. “Shhh,” she says, burying her face in his hair. “Shhh, I’m here for you. I’m right here.”

His eyes slide shut and for a long moment he is still and completely limp in her arms. Then he tenses. His eyes snap open but they’re covered with a fine grey film.

“Exiles…” he whispers. “I will come back. Go forward in all your…” The Doctor starts shaking violently. “This senseless, evil killing. You refuse to use your great power to help those in need. You refuse. Your world is ending, but you still have a chance to save another world. Please. The fire. It burns.” The Doctor moans. “It burns…”

Amy has to blink. Her eyes are stinging again. The Doctor rambles and struggles against her and she can’t help him. Wherever he’s trapped, whatever he’s seeing, she can’t stop it — it’s already happened. He stops talking in English. He calls out in a weird, lilting voice that reminds Amy of the TARDIS cloister bells. He twists painfully. His head tips back impossibly far.

“Sutekh, I defy you —“ he grits out before launching into a long, wordless scream. Amy tries to hold him close. She’s afraid now that he’s going to fall off the seat onto the floor. She can smell the blood off his bites and scratches and knows that it must be getting all over her. She hopes that Rory comes back soon. She hopes that the Doctor wakes up soon. She doesn’t know how much more of this she can take — he can take.

Amy feels cold melt water dripping down her neck and can hear distant voices telling her that he isn’t coming back. She fixes her eyes on the Doctor and tries to block them out. He’s stopped screaming and is mumbling again:

“SarahAdricRomanaPeriKatarinaAceBraxLeelaAndredKoscheiJakeDonnaRoseSusanRoryAmeliaSusanNyssa…”

The words are slurred together. Amy doesn’t know if he’s listing names or speaking another alien language. Whatever it is, it’s horrifying to watch. It’s like the words are rushing out, blocking any air from going in. Whenever he can the Doctor gasps for breath before starting the chant again and again. Amy wants to look away. Run away. She doesn’t know what to do.

Warm arms embrace her from behind. “Rory?” Amy asks.

“I found some sedatives in the med-bay. They might help.” The warm arms leave. “Or maybe not. But I can’t treat him if he won’t stay still.” Amy turns her head to see Rory filling a syringe. He has a large bag by his side marked with the universal symbol for medical help. Rory leans forward and injects the serum into the Doctor’s arm. The Time Lord shouts and gags for a moment before quieting. Rory checks his vitals. Together they ease him onto the cool glass floor because he’s too tall to lie flat on the couch.

Amy’s not really trained in first aid. Rory’s tried to teach her and get her enrolled in courses, but she always found her attention wandering. Now she follows her husband’s instructions as best she can and doesn’t even make a comment when Rory cuts off the remains of the Doctor’s shirt and trousers. She strokes the Doctor’s hair and hands Rory supplies as he asks for them. She tries not to watch Rory threading a needle or think about it pulling together flaps of skin. She hears the precise snip when Rory ties a knot and cuts off the loose ends.

The Doctor is crying.

The sedative worked; He’s not thrashing around and he’s not screaming. Aside from the slow rise and fall of his chest he’s not moving at all, but there is a steady seepage from the Doctor’s eyes.

“Rory,” Amy says.

“Almost done Amy.”

“No, Rory, it’s important. Look.”

Rory finishes safety-pinning a bandage in place and looks up.

“He’s crying,” says Amy. “The memories. It’s still working, but now he can’t… he can’t… it’s just in his mind. He’s not acting it out.”

“That might be for the best,” says Rory. “We don’t know what’s in his head, but what we’ve seen — Amy, it’s probably safer for us and him if stays there.”

“I know but…” There’s something they’re both missing. Amy’s throat catches at the white dressing tied around the Doctor’s hand and the bite mark she left there. “What if… what if you have to act it out? So that you know it’s not real? So don’t get trapped?”

“Amy, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Does any of this?”

“There’s nothing we can do now but wait.”

“No, that’s not right,” Amy says. She remembers something the Doctor said about feedback loops and setting the right patterns. She lies down on the glass floor beside him and pulls the limp, crying Time Lord into a hug. Without a word Rory gets down on the Doctor’s other side.

It’s not comfortable. The floor is hard. After a few minutes Amy gets up and fetches several armloads of blankets and pillows. The TARDIS dims the lights a bit and it’s almost cozy. They snuggle against the Doctor. Rory checks his pulse and breathing every half hour. Some long time later the Doctor snuggles back. His eyes are still closed but his cheeks are dry and Amy knows that, somehow, everything is going to be alright.  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=48263>


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